CASSANDRA, or Memoires of an Heroine

CASSANDRA, or Memoires of an Heroine

Chapter 6- Pandora's Box

'Jem put his arm around me. "Hush, Scout," he said. "It ain't time to worry yet. I'll let you know when."' 'To Kill a Mockingbird' by Harper Lee.

All the rest of the week before he returned to school Nero puzzled about the box. He took it out and handled it. He turned it upside down and shook it. He squinted at it. But he did not open it. Nero knew the meaning of the word caution, and though he had every intention of opening it eventually, he wanted to know what the writing meant first. If it said there really is a curse on here and you're the biggest idiot in Norfolk if you open it, then Nero might reconsider his decision. However, there were only two words and Nero did not know of any language in which such a wealth of meaning could be conveyed in such a small amount of writing.

When he returned to Hogwarts he decided to look in the library. The Hogwarts' library was one of the best in Europe and would certainly contain what he needed. He copied the writing onto a piece of paper so he did not have to carry the box around. He kept that in his trunk, surrounded by many spells his father had taught him. He reflected that McGonagall would not like those spells if she found out about them, but of course Snape would get him out of trouble.

However, researching a language was not such an easy task as he had assumed. Having never used the school library before there were a few things he did not know about it. Firstly he did not know where it was.

After meandering aimlessly round the school in search of it for a few days (a fruitless procedure as anyone who knows the geography of Hogwarts will agree with) he quizzed a studious looking Ravenclaw with a pile of books on Celtic mythology. However, Irina seemed to think his innocent query of "Hey- you going to the library? I'll help you carry your books!" was simply the worst chat up line invented and flatly told him that she was going to the Ravenclaw common room and a few other things as well.

Eventually he ended up surreptitiously following Madame Pince the aged librarian. After taking a detour via the staffroom he found his impressive goal just as the bell rang for afternoon lessons.

A fortnight after he had received the box for his birthday, Nero Malfoy grabbed a table in the library and started work. But he still needed to know a few more things about the school library.

He had chosen the table with great care. It was a smallish one by the shelf marked 'Ancient Magical Languages'. There was a pleasant window next to the said table which he could stare out of if the search got tedious, which he was certain it would. The chair was one of the few leather ones left in the library and the whole section was in an out-of-the-way part of the room.

He had no sooner sat down and started to collect his thoughts than a heavy book banged down on his hands. He stifled a squawk and looked up. Cassandra Potter had unceremoniously dropped An Unforgiving Guide to Curses onto the table and whether accidentally, or on purpose, it had landed on his fingers. She placed her small hands on her hips and tried to look threatening. "Shift. This is my place! I always sit here! I have work to do and you're not sitting here with me."

"You're telling me that you have your very own place in the library? Well, why isn't it marked? Specially reserved for her right royal highness, Princess Cassandra! Get a life, Potter! I'll sit here if I want to."

"Ahem, I think you're missing the point slightly. I sit here and you have to move." She seemed to be kicking up a bit too much of a row for the library. Unfortunately this seemed to be her intention. Up came Madame Pince and glared at Malfoy. "I think you're disturbing Miss Potter, Mr. Malfoy. She has important work to do. Please leave at once."

Cassandra sat down and gave him a triumphant glare over the top of her book. Nero couldn't believe his ears. Here was a member of staff who preferred that plain, underdeveloped, spoilt brat of a Gryffindor to him! Who thought her insignificant Defence Against the Dark Arts projects were more important than his Malfoy heirloom! Snape would hear about this! He made sure he trod on Cassandra's foot that was temptingly sticking out as he passed.

In the end however, he did not tell Professor Snape about the incident, since that might have led to questions about what he was doing in the library. He wanted to avoid these. Nero liked to be popular with his fellow Slytherin students, and going to the library was not a good way to achieve this.

Three days later he had found out when he had a free period that Cassandra did not, and having ascertained that she was safely stuck in Transfiguration, headed to the library. He had done it. Now came the part he had dreaded; the actual looking in the books.

He searched for the script in many different languages. It was not Mermish- that had a script that appeared like different patterns of seaweed. It was not Troll which did not seem to have any pattern whatsoever. It might have been Ancient Double Dutch, since that language looked very much like the Latin script, until it turned out that it was actually something completely different. (This was one of the features of that language that accounted for why the scholars of Ancient Double Dutch made up such a large percentage of the permanent inhabitants of Saint Mungo's Mental Department.) Nero considered trying to learn Double Dutch before realising that there was not a triangle in the Latin script, and therefore not in the Ancient Double Dutch script. He was relieved; he had no desire to spend the rest of his days in the Saint Mungo's psychology department.

At last, after a hard few days of research, he gave it up. The words on his box did not seem to be in any known Ancient Magical Language. He reasoned that it had to be ancient, since the box was ancient, and magical because no Malfoy would write in a muggle script, would they?

He slouched out of the library, bumped into Irina, who was returning her copy of The Once and Future King and tried to kiss her, just out of spite. He headed for the Slytherin dungeons. He had started down a staircase, when a voice hailed him from up above. "Wait- Nero Malfoy! One minute!" It was that stupid Latin teacher, Professor Shortstraw. The name had made Nero laugh very loudly when he had been an ignorant first year. That was until he realised that everyone had already made all the jokes it was possible to make about her and no-one thought he was being funny. You learnt fast, in Slytherin.

What did she want with him? What did she want with anyone? The woman was lost to the living! Galloping gargoyles- she taught Latin and enjoyed it! Nero did Latin; he didn't know why. Damn stupid waste of an OWL. Then again, he was doing Ancient Runes and Arithmancy as well which were both damn stupid wastes of OWLs.

Professor Shortstraw climbed down to his level and the staircase abruptly changed. "Oh dear, oh dear!" she cried, grabbing onto the banister. "This always seems to happen when I use a Hogwarts' staircase! I can't for the life of me think why."

Nero put his bored, uninterested face on. The stairs clicked into place and he continued down it. Professor Shortstraw tried to persuade him to wait. "I say, Nero! The stairs are heading straight for the second floor language corridor! How lucky! Do you think you could step into my office for a few minutes?"

When a teacher asks you to go with them to their office there is no argument. Nero followed her slowly, his face angry, unwilling and bored. Professor Shortstraw, however, did not get the idea.

She opened her door and Nero stepped into her office. It was quite large, since she was a Head of Department. There was a large wooden desk with plenty of junk on it and a bowl of grapes. The walls were decorated with blown up photographs of archeological sites. On her desk was a framed muggle photo of a tanned young woman who looked a lot like Professor Shortstraw twenty five years younger leaning on a broken pillar in a Mediterranean summer landscape and gripping a trowel.

"Do sit down, Nero!" she said, clearing a space on her desk. "Have some grapes! They've come straight from Italy. Oh, don't worry- they're washed."

Nero took one grape, looked at it hard and then ate it. "What did you want to see me about?" he asked eventually.

"I'd just like to clarify what happened at that disastrous meeting at Christmas. You said you found Cassandra fighting a dangerous man. Do you know who he was?"

"No," Nero lied. "I don't know who he was."

Professor Shortstraw nodded. "So how did you know he was dangerous?" she asked.

"He looked dangerous. Besides, anyone dueling with a child must be dangerous."

She wrote something down and looked back up at him, "Are you sure you didn't know him?"

Her gaze was making Nero uncomfortable. He tried not to squirm, "I didn't know him, Professor."

Professor Shortstraw stood up, "Very well. It was kind of you to wait."

The interview was over. Nero stood up and took another grape. Just as he was leaving the room he was struck by an idea. Who knew more about languages than any other witch or wizard at Hogwarts? Who was so seeped in the ancient world that she even had posters of it, where other people would have popstars? He turned round. "Professor, could you help me with something?"

"Certainly! Come back in and sit down!"

He shut the door and sat down in front of the large expanse of clutter on her desk. She watched him and waited for him to start. Slowly he took a piece of paper from his pocket. He looked up at her curious stare. "I found this, and I wondered if you knew what it meant?" He pushed the paper over a small space of free desk.

She picked it up and her eyes widened. Her cheeks became flushed and she smiled over the parchment at him. "Well I never! How extraordinary! How very interesting!"

Nero forced himself to be patient. "What does it mean? Do you know?"

She seemed almost offended, "Know? Of course I know what it means! But really, this is fascinating! Where did you find it, Nero? You didn't pluck it out of thin air, I presume?"

"I found it... I found it in the Slytherin common room!" There's somewhere she would not be able to look!

"Really? It's amazing all these things that are right under our eyes and we never see them!" She looked back down at the parchment. "But- I! Where abouts in the Slytherin common room?"

Nero's mind worked fast. "Under a chair, which I was moving...so that I could...er...sit on it!"

"How very bizarre!" She frowned.

Nero gritted his teeth, "So, you know what it means?"

"Yes, of course I know!"

"So, what does it mean?!"

She smiled, "It's Ancient Greek of course, and if you come round next to me- that's right, I'll show you exactly what it means."

"It's Greek? But there weren't wizards living in Greece, were there?"

She looked shocked, "Wizards not live in Greece! Why Nero, Greece had one of the biggest magical populations ever! Most of the spells we use today came from Greece originally! If you study Latin in sixth year then you'll learn all about the origin of spells. It's quite fascinating!"

"Well, it's in Greek..." prompted Nero, mentally kicking himself for not looking in the right place in the library. Greek was not a magical language, yet it had been used by wizards.

"Ah yes. Well, I imagine it was the script that was puzzling you, wasn't it?"

Nero nodded.

"Well, what it says is huper dunamin!"

"Really," said Nero flatly.

"You see, the Y is pronounced 'hu' in this case. Would you like me to explain why? I'm sure you'll find it very interesting!"

"I think I'll be fine without knowing, thank-you all the same, Professor."

She looked disappointed but continued all the same, "The second letter is capital Pi. I assume you know Pi! You do Arithmancy, don't you? Pi r² for circles, isn't it?"

"The area, yes."

"So many years since I've studied Maths I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty. Anyway, the E is an e, the P however, is an r- just to confuse us! The triangle is a capital Delta- a d. You know why it looks like a triangle?"

Nero obviously did not.

"They thought the delta of a river looked like a triangle!"

"How amazing!" said Nero without enthusiasm. "What does it mean?"

But Professor Shortstraw was not to be hurried. It was not often that she had someone walking into her office with a piece of Ancient Greek to be translated. "The rest of it is like English. Now as for what it means... well, huper is a preposition. It means beyond and takes the accusative case. Dunamis is a noun and in it's accusative is dunamin. You see? Perfectly simple really!"

Nero took a few deep breaths, "Professor Shortstraw, will you please tell me what it means!"

"Didn't I mention it? It means 'Beyond one's power'! Dunamis means power. It's an odd thing to find lying under a chair in the common room, don't you think?"

"Oh yes," replied Nero, "very odd indeed! Thanks awfully. May I have the paper back please?" He had no intention of leaving it with the Head of Gryffindor. He had a feeling she'd probably lose it, but he could not be sure.

She gave it back to him, frowning again. "Wait a moment- I've just thought!" She jumped over a pile of boxes and plucked a bright orange book off a shelf. The front cover fell off as she searched for the right page. She held it open for him to see, "Look! Your very sentence has been used as an example for prepositions! Somebody learning Greek must have dropped their work."

Nero thought it was very unlikely that there were any closet Greek students in Slytherin, but if the idea satisfied the teacher, he didn't care.

"Now I mention it, Nero, if you like, keep a hold of this book for a while. You show great promise in Latin and I'd love to teach you Greek as well!"

Nero almost fell over in shock.

"Now, I teach Cassandra on Tuesday evenings, but I appreciate you might not want to learn with her- you're not the best of friends, are you? so how about Thursdays?"

Nero tried to thrust the textbook back at her, but she would not take it. "I really don't think that..." he protested.

"Good! I'll see you then!" He pushed his way to the door as fast as possible, letting a piece of parchment flutter to the floor as he passed her desk. She picked it up and stopped him yet another time. "Ah! I knew there was something else! Nero, I don't seem to have your essay on the role of the Roman witch."

He stopped in his tracks and made a face at the door. "No, you don't."

She placed the essay back on her desk and pursed her lips, mildly reproachful. "Well, do you think I could have it then?"

"Yes." He opened the door.

"When will I get it?"

"Tomorrow."

"Make sure I do get it, will you? I don't want to have to supervise you doing it in my room."

"No." Nero did not want to be supervised either. At last she let him go. As he walked back to the dungeons he hid the textbook under his robes and cursed his bad luck. He would have to do the stupid essay after quidditch practice that evening. What a wonderful life his was!

~~*~~

If there had not been the threat of the Latin essay hanging over him Nero would have enjoyed quidditch practice very much. It gave him a chance to show off his new Nimbus Alpha 300. Disappointed that he had not received the broomstick for his birthday, he had himself raided his Gringott's vault and bought the model.

The Nimbus Alpha 300 was an even better broom than the Thunderbolt 4 from rival company Lightening Bolt. (Could there be the slightest possibility that the companies were running out of names for their models?) The Malfoys never patronized Lightening Bolt because it was owned by Harry Potter. However, they had plenty of shares with Nimbus in the hope that they would gain a monopoly over Lightening Bolt. Nevertheless, the other company seemed to be doing just as well.

The Gryffindor Quidditch teams all played on Lightening Bolt models most of which had been donated by Gryffindor's most illustrious ex-student, Harry Potter. The Slytherin teams were still on Nimbus XXXs, relatively old brooms by now. However, with their seeker on an Alpha 300 Cassandra had no chance of catching the Snitch before he did.

The Alpha 300 was the best broom ever made; the sort of model like the Silver Arrow and Firebolt had done before it that would revolutionize flying as it was currently known. As well as being able to reach higher speeds than ever before it included Thought-Response steering, a moveable cushion for maximized comfort, an inbuilt tracking system which alerted the flyer if they were approaching a solid object (as if they wouldn't know!), inbuilt compass, thermometer, speedial, barometer and a rain shield. The launch of the Nimbus Alpha 300 onto the mass market had promoted an article by Emma Shortstraw in Witch Weekly entitled Are broomsticks becoming the mobile phones of the wizarding world? Enough said.

Nero bragged about the broom to the sluggish lot of morons that was the Slytherin house Quidditch team; an activity that was less satisfying than it should have been. Showing off is not much fun when the audience does not understand that it is to compliment. He had already shown the Alpha 300 to his girlfriend, Joan; she had said the right things but she had also given him a big kiss, which considering Joan kissed like a pike with paralysis, this was not a very obvious gain. Nero was considering breaking up with her at an appropriate moment. Perhaps Valantine's Day would do.

After having a hot shower Nero sat down at a table in the common room, opened his textbook, named very originally by the author, The Romans and stared at the page on Roman women. He stood up again, put on a few more articles of clothing (the Slytherin dungeons being particularly damp, cold and uninviting at half past ten at night in mid January), wrote the following phrase- 'The role of the Roman witch was-' and realised that it would not do.

He could not stop thinking about the box and what was written on it. The translation Professor Shortstraw had given for the Greek (which he had no reason for doubting) was singularly un-illuminating. 'Beyond one's power.' Beyond who's power? What was beyond one's power?

Nero had two theories about the box. Either it was a hoax, or it was not a hoax. He decided to rule out the former possibility first, before tackling the more perplexing latter one. He leant back in his chair and stared at dying embers of the fire. He shoved the Latin essay into his bag; it was giving him a guilty conscience, chewed the end of his quill and thought.

If his birthday present was a hoax, and there was a very big if, then there seemed to be a certain number of questions that needed answering. Nero, being a methodical young person, took a piece of parchment and after half an hour's solid labour came up with the following results.

Person: Draco Malfoy

Reasons for: -He gave me the box himself.

Reasons against: -He seemed genuinely afraid of it.

-He's not clever enough to think up meaningless bits of Ancient Greek, but could have got it from the textbook.

Why: -He might want to see how worthy I am as his heir. Depending on whether I open the box or not he can judge how much of a Malfoy I am.

-It might be a good way of not spending money on my birthday.

What did he hope to achieve by it: See above.

Queries posed: -Why would he look in a muggle Greek textbook for a pointless phrase? Is that Malfoy behaviour?

-How could he make it appear so old without the help of a Histowizard?

^^^^^^^

Person: Professor Shortstraw

Reasons for: She knows Ancient Greek and has the expertise to be able to make it look authentic.

Reasons against: -Why on earth would she do it??!

- She seemed really surprised by it. She is not much of an actress.

Why: Possibly to get me interested in learning Ancient Greek. Couldn't she have done it in a more straightforward way?

What could she hope to achieve: My becoming interested in Greek.

Queries posed: -If the above statement is true, WHY ME?

-How would she ever persuade my father to co-operate with her? Why would that be necessary?

-Why go the bother of the 'Curse if you open it' palavar if the interest was on the writing on the top?

^^^^^^^

Person: A. N. Other

Reasons for: -A practical joke.

-A stranger could easily have imposed themselves on my father with a spot of mysticism and a good story. There's always money. Could Dad have been bribed or even blackmailed? That would explain his fear.

Reasons against: Why would anyone want to play a practical joke on me?

Why: If the box really was cursed, then to curse me though why I cannot imagine. Or could Mr. Other just be playing a very silly or elaborate joke with no visible gain to anyone.

What could they hope to achieve: If it was a practical joke then to make me look silly in some way to their amusement. Does the box contains a spell that will make me recite Shakespeare love sonnets to Professor Snape during breakfast or the like?

(Here, I am afraid to say, Nero was a little distracted from the task in hand by writing this novel idea down on his cuff as a possible idea for a Valantine's present for his sister.)

If the box was not a joke, then they might achieve my discomfort or more extremely, my death. Either way, Mr. A. N. Other does not like me very much!

Queries posed: -Who is behind it?

-If my father was blackmailed then how and why and by whom?

-Who wants to injure or kill me?

After studying these points carefully Nero came to the conclusion that Professor Shortstraw could be instantly wiped off the list. Personally he thought the A. N. other suggestion was the most plausible.

Nero yawned. The fire had completely gone out and there was a damp chill throughout the dungeon. It was definitely time for bed. Nero read through his work and made sure he knew it off by heart before tearing it to shreds and scattering them among the ashes. You could never be too careful.

He entered his dormitory and shoved his room mate Pip Blofeld almost through the green, frayed and worn through hangings of his four poster and onto the floor in the hope the movement might stop his snoring. It didn't, but it afforded Nero a little satisfaction.

He was subjected all night to an odd dream involving Cassandra Potter in a toga with 'I am sexy' written on the front of it and waving a big ruby encrusted sword saying that she wanted to eat stuffed doormice, was going to save the world and that she was untouchable and completely beyond his power. Had Nero been able to remember the dream afterwards he would have found it worrying.

~~*~~

The morning passed as most mornings generally did for Nero. He showed off in Potions and earned Slytherin a couple of points and he came top in an Arithmancy test. But even 95.5% was not enough to satisfy Professor Vector. Giving Pip Blofeld back his test (he had come bottom as usual) with a despairing glance at the rest of the class she gave them the 'getting back tests talk'.

"Well," she had said, "I suppose you're no worse than any other class I've ever taught, but it always amazes me why people with absolutely no mathematical or linguistical talent should choose a subject needing so much of both! Now this test wasn't badly done; not badly done at all, though it could have been done better. It is quite clear that some people have no interest in passing their OWLs in my subject. Well, it is disappointing to me after I've put so much hard work into teaching you, but only to be expected, I suppose. If you want to get an OWL in Arithmancy then you'll have to work during the course. Don't expect to get 100% if you don't." She shrugged and shook her head with a sigh. "Not that it's my problem if you don't care. Now this year's third years are really rather brilliant. If I gave this test to young Cassandra Potter, even if she hasn't covered the work, I'm sure she'd do better than the best of you. What a clever girl she is. None of you are remotely like her at all!"

"And thank God for that!" thought the class. If they could be bothered to ask anyone who had ever done Arithmancy, they would soon find out that 'this year's third year' is always 'rather brilliant'. Even Nero's class kindly called a 'disgraceful bunch of uninterested sloths' by Professor Vector, were once the object of envy to other classes.

After Arithmancy Nero did his Latin essay under cover of taking notes in History of Magic. When he had done it he placed it just inside of Professor Shortstraw's office with the pleasure of someone who has just done their good deed of the year.

With the morning lessons out of the way Nero had lunchtime to think about the box. Having thought extensively on whether it was a hoax or not, he had to turn his thoughts to the possibility it wasn't.

Nero gathered his facts together.

- The box was a cursed Malfoy heirloom.

- It has the words 'Beyond one's power' written on the top in Ancient Greek.

- If the words are translated then there is a curse. (Well, that did not seem to have kicked into play yet!)

- If the box is opened then there is a curse.

- It should be given to Nero's son in just such a way as it was given to Nero.

- No one must know about it.

Nero did not think that his father's statement that all the people who had opened it had died within a week should be counted as a fact. How would Draco know? He was not very interested in history- even of the Malfoys.

There were many questions posed by these facts, which Nero tried to answer:

- When was it made? By whom? Why?

It was made a long time ago. When Ancient Greek was still useful (if that was ever the case). It was made by a demented Malfoy. No idea why- because he was mad? Possibly to guard something precious.

- What sort of curses are on it? Why is it cursed at all?

No idea what type. Perhaps to protect what was inside.

- Why on earth does it have Ancient Greek meaningless rubbish on it?

Because this loopy Malfoy felt like it. He wanted to make people waste their time trying to figure out what it meant and so give up opening it. Or to warn people not to open it; because everybody understands Greek, don't they?

- What happened if Nero did not have a son?

He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

And most importantly: What was in the box?

Well, that was the question!

When he had read these notes through Nero realised that they all pointed in one direction: the contents of the box. Nothing more could be gleaned from the outside. If Nero was to find out anything about his birthday present (which he certainly intended to do) then, curse or no curse, the box would have to be opened.

~~*~~

Nero thought long and hard about when he should open it. Eventually he came to the conclusion that it should be attempted when there were not many people around so that he could have some privacy. The weekend of the 28th January was a Hogsmeade weekend. He could pretend to be ill.

He planned it to perfection. The week before he made out to everyone who might care that he was allergic to peanuts. Friday night he ate three tarts containing peanuts, but pretended to only realise afterwards. He complained heavily about feeling sick. The next morning, however, there was something he had not bargained for. This apparition came to him in the unwelcome form of Joanne Patience Witherspoon, or Nero's girlfriend. She hung about his armchair in the common room til he thought she'd never go.

"Oh, Nero, don't send me away! I can't leave you here, all alone and so ill! I'll stay with you all day- I mean it!"

And the worst thing was, that she did. But Nero insisted on being hardhearted, "I'm so sorry, Joan, but you'll have to tear yourself away from me. I do know it's difficult, but please try. I couldn't bear to think of you wasting your day here with me when you could be out in Hogsmeade enjoying yourself."

Joan seemed shocked. "Oh, cruel, cruel Nero! You know that I can never be happy without you! I love you, Nero! I really do! You're the sweetest thing alive!" (Here Pip coughed slightly and turned away, wondering if she'd ever leave since he wanted to meet Nero's bewitching little sister at the Three Broomsticks.)

Joan leaned over the back of the armchair and tried to kiss Nero who recoiled in horror saying, "Oh, I wouldn't kiss me, if I were you, Joan!" He waved his supposedly dirty handkerchief in her face.

She pouted, "Why not?"

"It might be contagious! I couldn't have you catching anything, could I?"

Joan's big, grey eyes narrowed, "Allergies aren't catching where I come from."

Nero leaned closer to her and replied seriously, "Well, they might be here. You never can tell with Hogwarts."

Joan looked slightly frightened and took a step backwards, "Do you really think so?"

Nero nodded, "I do indeed."

"You never can tell with Hogwarts," she repeated thoughtfully.

Pip looked at his watch, "Are you coming? We'll miss the girls!"

Joan looked anxiously from Pip to Nero and choose Pip, to the other's great gratification. "In that case," she said, blushing, "perhaps I'd better go to Hogsmeade after all. I- I've never felt very well since I ran all the way to Divination. It's my heart, you know. I'm not very strong, you know. You're right, Nero darling, I think I should go. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," replied Nero sincerely.

"I do hope you get better soon. Come on Pip!" And they swept from the common room to Nero's inexpressive delight. He picked up the Greek textbook and threw it hard in the direction of the door.

Joan definitely had to go as soon as possible. He had never asked her out. He had asked her about some Herbology and the next minute she had her arms around him saying how much she loved him! Nero could never see how a question on homework could be interpreted as a declaration of endless passion, but Joan could and Joan had. Still, he had thought that any girlfriend was better than no girlfriend. He was beginning to doubt that now he had been seeing her for two months. He dearly wished he could find someone clever, but intelligent people were hard to come by in Slytherin.

Once he was sure that all was relatively quiet in the Slytherin common room he retired to his dormitory and fetched the box. He held it in front of him and had his hand on the untarnished gold catch when he was struck with the most uncanny impression that there was something he had forgotten. Nero was not afraid of the curse (if there was one) but he couldn't help thinking that there was something really obvious that he had missed. He started to lift the catch and remembered. If the curse (if there was a curse) was on the person who opened the box, then surely it would be better to have someone else open it without knowing what they were doing.

Emilia. Nero's sister could open it and he certainly did not mind if she were cursed. But Milly had gone to Hogsmeade and was not available. Nero took a look round the common room and spied a second year who was recovering from a nosebleed and looking perfectly miserable. He approached. The second year jumped and sniffed and then groaned. Nero held out the box.

"Are you any good at opening things? I can't get this open and it's a birthday present."

The boy sniffed again and took a look at it. "What does it say on the top of it?" he asked suspiciously between sniffs.

"Happy Birthday in Ancient Runes," lied Nero. "Please open it. I'll give you two sickles if you do."

The boys eyes lit up. "All right then," sniff "you're on!"

The boy pulled the catch up, Nero watching anxiously from behind, and kept pulling. The box wouldn't open. The boy looked up. "Look's like you've got a problem here. I can't seem to get the catch undone either."

This was an unexpected and unwelcome blow. Nero snatched the box from the young Slytherin and glared ferociously. "All right! No sickles for you! Huh!" And he swept away glowering into the dormitory. The boy sniffed harder and Nero slammed the door.

He chucked the box onto his bed and followed it up himself. He tried to think the matter out but instead couldn't concentrate on anything except how unlucky he was. After lunch- a lonely affair in the Great Hall- he did his homework and then the others returned home.

Pip, it seemed, had made his first conquest. The girl was a fifth year Gryffindor called Rebecca and Pip had already been to see the appropriate seventh year to get his five galleons.

About eight years ago, a sixth year Slytherin whose name has escaped me tempted a Gryffindor sixth year girl into having sex with him. This was thought such a daring procedure by all (since Gryffindors and Slytherins were not meant to have relationships) that his friends gave this lucky Slytherin quite a bit of prize money. The sixth year thought this was good fun (especially since he was on the receiving end of the money) and set up a business. It soon became very popular and as the years progressed the rules got tougher. By now the minimum age to join in was sixteen (for going all the way) and thirteen for just kissing, and the girl had to be a Gryffindor. The money was collected by some seventh years who formed a committee and came from the betting. Five galleons were awarded for a kiss; seven if it was a Weasley. Ten galleons if you slept with her; fifteen if she were a virgin or a Weasley. Twenty if she were both.

The whole school knew about it and it was accepted that this was the only way a Gryffindor and a Slytherin could get together without breaking the firm laws of their respective houses. Even most of the Gryffindor girls were aware of its presence but only complained if their seducer was not good looking.

If it had not been for beautiful Esmerelda Robinson, Nero would have thought it was all a waste of time. He was not even sure that the seductions actually happened since it did seem a little odd that none of the members of staff ever seemed to notice this strange promiscuity that raged through the hormones of the older Hogwarts alumni.

Well, so Pip had started to play the game. Big deal. Nero was in a bad mood so he headed outside for a walk. The quidditch pitch was illuminated and he went to watch the practice and possibly get some ideas for the Slytherin team.

It was the Gryffindor main team that was practising and he lurked in the shadows where they could not see him. He laughed as their small third year seeker pulled herself through the air with the speed of a dormant snail. How she needed a new broom!

The captain's mind seemed to be thinking that way as well. She blew her whistle and the team floated down to earth. "I say, Cassandra- you're doing a find job, but you really need to go faster!"

Cassandra scruffed the ground with her boot and said nothing. Pathetic, thought Nero. Really pathetic. Call that the behaviour of a true Gryffindor!

The captain was patient. "The point is, Toby told me, strictly in confidence, that the Hufflepuff team has got an order of seven new Alpha 300s which will arrive the day before the Valantine's Day match. We need to go faster. Cassandra has no chance of catching the snitch if she's only on a Thunderbolt 4. Think about it. Team- bed!"

Nero slunk off back to the castle, his good mood restored. Watching Cassandra Potter have a semi public put down had very peculiar medicinal qualities.

~~*~~

The morning dawned fresh, clear and cold. Nero felt his luck was in, for once. Today, Sunday the 29th January was the day the box would be opened. He had thought, during the night about why that second year could not open it and had come to the conclusion that he was the only one who could. The idea made him feel important.

After breakfast he took it into the empty dormitory (the rest of the year was in Hogsmeade) and placed his finger on the catch. It was all or nothing. He prized the catch up and lifted the lid.

He had been prepared for all manner things to be inside it. Curses that acted as jack-in-the-boxes, ancient pieces of parchment that were maps leading to buried treasure, the One Ring (though that idea Nero admitted was a little far fetched) and many other less likely possibilities. But nothing could have prepared him for what was in it.

The box was empty.

This was not strictly true. At the bottom of it was some green satin with padding behind it. There was a little dip in the centre as if something should be sitting on the material. There was quite a lot of old air that had made Nero cough.

Nero had never felt so disappointed. He let out a long breath of air and then kicked the bed, which solved slightly less than nothing.

He then proceeded to spent the rest of the morning prodding and poking it and searching with both physical and magical means for secret compartments. But there were none.

The explanation was obvious. There should have been something in the box; and there was not.

~~*~~

Nero was so vexed with the whole resolution of the past few weeks of torment that he threw the box across the room and spent the rest of the day doing French grammar exercises with an almost unknown vigour. He went to bed bad-tempered.

But even sleep was not able to refresh him. For hours he lay awake tossing and turning on his four-poster until Adonis Jones and Pip Blofeld, who slept in the same dormitory, complained loudly. At last, some hours after midnight Nero finally fell into an uneasy slumber, haunted by dreams.

He dreamt of the dark ages; of castles and knights and hilltops aflame with fire. He dreamt of wars and fighting and amist all of this was a small stone, greenish in colour which seemed to be at the centre of all of the confusion. A tall, regal man in long green and black robes stood on the top of a mountain, fire spewing across the background, robes billowing, leaning on a gnarled staff. His face was sharp and olive coloured, his eyes black; he had a triangular shaped goatee beard and longish, black hair. Behind him a red moon rose high into the sky, illuminating the clouds in an unearthly glow. With a smile, he raised his right hand into the air and in it was the above mentioned stone. He held it aloft and all around were the screams of men, women and children...

Nero woke up, shaking. It was still dark. Outside, the wind howled round the castle. He shivered. According to his watch, it was four o'clock in the morning. Pip was snoring and Adonis was grunting in his sleep about a girl called Natalie. The night before, Nero recollected, she had been called Katie.

He took a drink of water and snuggled back down between the green and silver blankets when a voice spoke next to his ear. He sat up in bed, and stifled a scream. The voice said, "So, you opened it at last."

Nero's teeth were chattering, though whether this was from fear (surely not) or the lack of central heating in the dormitory it is hard to ascertain. He replied in a whisper, "W-w-who are y-y-you?"

The really frightening thing was, you see, there was no-one there. The Voice said, "Do you want to know where it is?"

"Who are you?" Nero repeated.

"Answer my question, and I might answer yours." The Voice was soft and smooth, with a tinge of cynicism in it.

"That depends on what it is."

"The contents of my box, idiot."

"Your box?"

"I thought we had made an agreement about that. I ask the questions around here. Yes, it is my box. I made it, it was all my idea, I engraved the Greek on it and I cursed it."

"So there is a curse on it?" asked Nero, swallowing hard.

"Yes, there is a curse. However, if you do what I say, it will not touch you."

"That's good!" said Nero with a shaky laugh. He had finally come to the conclusion that the box was not a hoax.

"Are you listening, boy?"

"Yes."

"Tomorrow night, go to Salazar's Cross and I will tell you all you want to know."

"Uh, tomorrow night's no good. It's my birthday party."

"And that is more important than this?" The Voice sounded annoyed.

"Yes! Adonis has booked a stripper from The Green Umbrella club for the over eighteens."

The Voice sounded almost amused as he replied, "Well, everyone is young at one time. The day after tomorrow, then. That is the last day of January."

"Where is Salazar's Cross?" whispered Nero.

The Voice let out a loud sigh. "Is it conceivable? You have been at Hogwarts for four years... but no matter. Salazar's Cross, you deficient, unworthy louse, is the grave of Salazar Slytherin. It is on a little hill next to the forest. Go behind the gamekeeper's hut and keep to the forest until the land begins to rise. Then you'll find it. If you do not come, you will die."

"I will come," Nero replied, slightly offended at having been called a louse by something that did not even have a body.

"Goodnight."

And that was that. The Voice spoke no more. Nero pulled back the hangings of his fourposter; all was still. No-one else seemed to have heard his conversation.